


even the stars die

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Order 66, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suitless Darth Vader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Those eyes, those stupidly pretty eyes, the ones that Rex had gotten lost in over and over again, are gone. They’re replaced with a sickly yellow, one that penetrates deep into his soul, so painfully that his mouth falls open on a forced exhale. “Anakin,” he says simply, forcing all the longing and pain and fear that he feels into the name, and it works, because Anakin pauses, something in his face easing, like he finally sees.My Jedi.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 31
Kudos: 227





	1. burn

He wishes he had more time.

But now he’s staring at Anakin- _Anakin, not Skywalker, not General, because they’re long past that formality, having been lost somehow amidst long nights with tangled limbs and murmured promises, and the only name that sounds right now is Anakin, and it always will be-_ and his heart is pounding so hard it _hurts,_ but he forces himself to take a step forward. 

Those eyes, those _stupidly pretty eyes,_ the ones that Rex had gotten lost in over and over again, are gone. They’re replaced with a sickly yellow, one that penetrates deep into his soul, so painfully that his mouth falls open on a forced exhale. “Anakin,” he says simply, forcing all the _longing_ and _pain_ and _fear_ that he feels into the name, and it works, because Anakin pauses, something in his face easing, like he finally _sees._

_My Jedi._

But Kenobi takes a step, and just like that, Anakin’s eyes darken, and he turns to face the Jedi, leaving Rex at his back.

 _He trusts me,_ he thinks, dizzy with all of the love and pain and fear battling for dominance within him.

It’s a blur after that, Kenobi and Anakin both igniting their sabers and circling one another like predators before throwing themselves forward, their bodies colliding with a _thud._ It was brutal, savage, and Anakin fought with a ferocity that Rex had never seen before.

And he can’t do _anything_.

He’s torn, torn between helping his friend, who’s doing the _right thing,_ and helping Anakin, the only person who has ever seen him as more than a clone, as more than a tool. 

And then Obi-Wan is down, falling limp and boneless from a blow to the head. Anakin raises his lightsaber for the killing blow, and panic, sharp and unbidden, explodes through every nerve in Rex’s body. He’s throwing himself forward before he can stop himself.

They collide hard, Anakin’s lightsaber falling from his hands and Rex’s own hands coming up to grip the front of the man’s tunic desperately, anything to stop himself from falling. Anakin takes a few unsteady steps back before righting himself, his hands coming up to grip at Rex’s hips. Then Rex looks up. A mistake, because now that their eyes are locked, he can’t tear them away.

It’s almost... pretty, how the yellow and blue are swirling in his eyes, conflicted, as if Anakin isn’t sure _himself_ what he’s doing. And then the hands at his hips _squeeze_. “ ** _Rex_**.” His name is a pleased hum, and Anakin leans forward to bury his face into the crook where shoulder met neck, and Rex shivered at the feeling of lips brushing against his heated skin. 

A sharp nip at his neck made Rex jump, and Anakin pulled back, a frown on his face, as if just remembering. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I-I came to find you, to bring you back. You’re my General.” He felt Anakin stiffen under him, and his hips were gripped to the point of pain, even with his armor, but he forged on. “They said you turned to the dark side.” He paused a moment, searching the fiery eyes before him. “Were they lying?”

Anakin let’s go of him, and Rex immediately mourns the loss. He avoids the question. “I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of.”

The words were damning.

“Forget about all this.” Rex insisted, grabbing Anakin’s hand and tugging, discouraged when his Jedi didn’t budge, just continued to stare, his eyes intent, calculating, as if memorizing every inch of Rex’s face. “We can go away, like we talked about, remember?”

_“One day,” Anakin murmured, his teeth scraping against Rex’s throat slowly, tauntingly, and he shivered, pushing against the warm body above him and huffing when the Jedi didn’t give. “When the war is over, we’ll disappear. Together.”_

_Rex hummed, finally relenting, letting the tension ease from his sore muscles, relaxing further into the bed beneath him. “Maybe open a bakery.”_

_Anakin huffed a laugh against his neck, pulling back to stare into the golden eyes beneath him, head cocked. ”A bakery? I was thinking a diner.”_

_Rex growled, no real malice in the act, before surging up to wrap his arms around his Jedi’s neck, dragging him down and-_

“No,” Anakin practically snarled, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Stop holding on! Let the Republic die; A new empire is rising, one that _I_ can rule! I can overthrow the Chancellor, and together we can-“

“Anakin,” Rex took a step back, ignoring the ash that coated his tongue, making it feel heavy and weighted. “What’re you- _no_ , that’s- My loyalty is to the Republic, I swore an _oath_! I can’t- this is _wrong!”_ He emphasized it too sharply, because Anakin blinked in surprise for a moment before his eyes hardened.

“You’re supposed to be loyal to _me_. You’re _my_ clone, _my_ Captain.” His tone was dark, twisted, lacking the usual adoration and affection that Rex was accustomed to. But then, the yellow in his eyes bled away, leaving that startlingly vivid blue, and Rex felt himself soften immediately, his lips parting in awe as he finally caught a glimpse at the suffering, pained human beneath the anger and rage. “Please,” Anakin’s tone turned pleading, his eyes glistening with moisture, so, so impossibly _blue_ _and he could get lost in them if left alone long enough-_ “Join me. I-“ He’d never seen Anakin timid or uncertain about anything, and the change was unexpected. “I need you.”

Rex hesitated, glancing back at Kenobi’s unconscious form. When he turned back, a hint of the yellow was creeping back into the edges of the sapphire pools before him. Anakin’s voice was more firm when he spoke again. “Come with me, I’ll spare his life.”

 _That_ got his attention. If it meant saving Obi-Wan’s, then he’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity. And he needed to make his decision soon. The yellow was more prominent now. “Okay,” he finally breathed, accepting the hand that Anakin offered, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to walk away, risking a last glance at the fallen Jedi he was leaving behind.

_I’m sorry, General Kenobi. Please forgive me._

Rex glanced at Skywalker warily as they walked. He wouldn’t- Anakin wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t. He could trust him.

_There’s still good in him._

However, when they reached a shuttle he’d never seen before, with an emblem that most definitely was _not_ the Republic’s, a small tendril of fear worked its way deep into him, digging in viscously and _holding on_. And, well, if he leaned into Anakin a little more, soaking in the wave of comfort that his Jedi projected into his mind, then the strange cloaked figure- _Palpatine, the Chancellor,_ his mind whispered- didn’t comment.

“Well done, my loyal apprentice.”

“Thank you, Master.”

If Rex thought Anakin’s eyes had been disturbing, the ones that flickered to him now were a _monstrosity_. Anakin, sensing the sudden tension, spoke up. “My Captain, Rex. He is loyal, Master. And he will serve us well.”

The Chancellor made a noise, his gaze never once wavering, and Rex looked down, unable to bear the weight of the oppressive presence he felt worming into his mind. It wasn’t warm and safe, comforting, like his Jedi’s probing always felt, it was cold, harsh, clinical, and Rex flinched back against it. 

Anakin’s eyes flickered to him for the briefest of moments as if wanting to intervene before he looked away, staying silent. Once done, Palpatine hummed. But his next words caused Rex to freeze.

“Very well, Lord Vader.”

 _Vader_ , the name felt like death on his tongue, and he swallowed hard, trying to hide the way his hands trembled as he followed his Jed- _no, the Sith_ , up the ramp and into the ship. But his loyalty ran far deeper than he had anticipated, and maybe it _was_ his genetics, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his General, even if he was the very thing he’d swore to destroy. No, Rex couldn’t leave him now, let alone in the face of a new _empire_.

 _My Jedi,_ he thought tiredly, watching Anakin murmur to the Chancellor in low tones, fighting the exhaustion pulling at his limbs. _What have they done to you?_


	2. empires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _destruction was not what i intended for you, but this is what happens to all who follow in my wake._

They’re still talking.

It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does, but the sight of them, hunched over and murmuring lowly, yellow eyes occasionally glancing around the hold, it’s _unnerving._ Especially considering they’ve been traveling for the better part of two hours.

The exhaustion is set deep in his bones, and he longs for just a few moments of rest, just a small nap... But no. His mind is scrambling in a million different directions, adrenaline still pounding steadily through his veins. There will be no rest for him.

He hoped Ahsoka had made it, hoped that no more of his _vode_ had tried to gun her down since their parting at the shipyard, and the thought of her fighter, floating dead and cold in space with her in it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. All of this does. It’s not _right,_ doesn’t even feel the slightest _bit_ right, but _Anakin_ is here. Which means everything will be fine. They’ll reach Coruscant, he’ll meet up with Cody, Anakin would tell him the preposterous, outlandish plan he had, and they could _figure this out._ Together.

The ship lurches, and it causes Rex to become unbalanced, his helmet tumbling from his lap to roll across the floor in a very unprofessional way. He looks up carefully, and the two Sith are staring at him, one with amusement and the other with barely concealed disdain. He flushes and stands, walking slowly to ensure he doesn’t get knocked off his feet if the ship decides to buck again, and picks his bucket up.

“Your chip did not activate.”

Rex didn’t freeze, he was trained better than that, but he couldn’t stop his muscles from twitching reflexively, indecisive as to how he should proceed. Chancellor Palpatine- _had that been a lie too? Was that even the man’s name?-_ eyed him accusingly, gaze unflinching, and Rex met it head on. Best to feign confidence than to fall for being weak. “No, sir. It didn’t.”

Anakin looked between the two of them with a raised brow. The yellow in his eyes had faded into a pale blue, still a far cry from the normal vibrant color, but close enough that it made tension leak from Rex’s shoulders. This was someone he _knew._

“His loyalties are unwavering, Master.” Anakin said, gaze intense and fiery, and Rex stood taller in testament to the statement.

Palpatine turned away with a scowl, and their previously hushed discussion began again, almost as if they’d never spoken to him at all. Wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead, he took his seat quickly, holding his helmet with _both_ hands this time.

The two clones that had come with the Chancellor were like statues, unmoving and unwavering, not a limb out of place, their posture impeccable.

_Unnatural._

Had that been the rest of the 501st’s fate? Had all of his brothers, all of his friends been turned to unthinking droids? To nothing but a soulless body with a gun? The thought didn’t bode well with him, and he quickly averted his eyes, clenching his fists around his helmet and forcing himself to calm.

Everything would be fine. Anakin had said so.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he arrived on Coruscant was the smoke that clouded the sky, staining it a dark, dark grey, even red in some places. The Jedi Temple. Burning. The scene was so chilling that he had to look away.

_“Because I know the truth... the truth about a plot.”_

Fives had sounded crazy, had _looked_ crazy. Now Rex wasn’t so sure.

_“A massive deception.”_

When he’d received the order, he hadn’t known what to do. He didn’t remember an order sixty-six, and he’d racked his brain for anything, everything, and then the Chancellor had cut the connection.

_“There’s a sinister plot in the works against the Jedi.”_

It had hit him, then. Kix’s sudden disappearance, the way Jesse’s voice had been so toneless and emotionless that he had sounded _dead_ even as he’d fired on Ahsoka.

_“I have proof of it. I can prove that everything that I know is true beyond the shadow of a doubt!”_

They had tried to kill her. Ahsoka, the Commander they’d served for _years._

_“The evidence is... it’s in here.”_

Ahsoka had dodged, pleading, her voice too high, _scared,_ and Rex had been petrified. It’s different, fighting yourself. Umbara all over again, his blasters trained on his brothers, torn between Ahsoka and the men he’d bled and cried with.

_“It’s in all of us.”_

He chose Ahsoka.

_“Every clone.”_

_Gods,_ Wolffe would hate himself if he knew, would rather eat a blaster than face the fact that he’d killed his General, and- Bly. His _ori’vod_ wouldn’t be able to take it, wouldn’t be able to live with the realization that he’d killed his own _cyare._

_“Organic chips, built into our genetic code.”_

Rex had experienced the nightmare for himself, turning his blaster to Anakin, to Ahsoka, had felt the impersonal satisfaction as he’d pulled the trigger and had watched them die.

_“To make us do whatever someone wants.”_

Every clones fear was being seen as the droids they fought, as being seen as nothing but bodies, copies of a dead man. They’d been right to be afraid.

_“Even kill the Jedi.”_

All of them. Were all of them dead? General Winu? General Fisto? Kenobi... Obi-Wan? He doesn’t want to think Cody capable of that, doesn’t want to think of Kenobi as anything other than alive and well, but it’s hard, surrounded by people he doesn’t know but people he _should_ know.

_“It’s all in here!”_

Rex runs a discreet hand over the scar self-consciously before catching himself and forcing his hands to fall idle.

_“You don’t believe me!”_

Rex wants to drag Fives back from the afterlife just to say “you were right, Fives, we should have believed you” but he can’t, and he doesn’t. Instead, he stares down at his helmet, hoping he looks somewhat put together.

_“He’s in on it. I don’t know to what extent, but I know he orchestrated much of this.”_

Rex glances up at the Chancellor- _The Sith lord, the one the Jedi had been trying to catch all along-_ and thinks bitterly that they should have _known._ He was _right_ under their noses.

_“I swear to you, General, you have no idea-“_

He’s glad Fives isn’t there to see this, glad he wasn’t violated in the worst way possible, glad that he wasn’t stripped of his humanity and forced to become a number.

The ship landed with a shudder, hissing and groaning from the weight of gravity, startling him from his thoughts, and he stood uncertainly. The Chancellor walked by him without so much as a glance, and the two clones rose fluidly and followed after him. Only Anakin remained, watching him with a grin that was entirely too joyful for the current circumstances.

“Sir?” Rex asked hesitantly, glancing down the ramp and eyeing the rows of troopers he saw waiting. _His_ troopers.

“A necessary precaution.” Anakin said smoothly, striding over until he was standing in front of Rex, all dark robes and yellow-blue eyes, and Rex’s worries eased the slightest bit. “Just in case there are any survivors.”

Rex blinked, his eyes burning- _they had been since Mustafar, really, ever since the first wave of heat and ash had come over him-_ and he sighed, letting his head fall forward to thump against Anakin’s chest. And of course, his Jedi- _Sith,_ a venomous voice whispered- responded immediately, wrapping his arms around him and just... holding on. An anchor in the wildest, deadliest storm Rex had ever encountered, and he leaned into the embrace further.

“‘m tired.” He murmured into the sooty, sweaty robes, and Anakin hummed, skilled fingers working between plates of armor to rub soothingly along coiled muscles.

“I know, and you’ll get all the rest you need, but first, I need you to help me.”

Rex pulled back, looking up into Anakin’s face with a small frown. “With what?”

Anakin grinned again, all teeth, and the action was positively _predatory._ “Hunting.”

* * *

They find six Jedi stragglers, scattered all across Coruscant, desperate and scared- _they pleaded, begged, tears streaming down their faces even as they ignited their sabers in an attempt to win a hopeless battle, and Rex will forever hear their screams-_ but Anakin is like nothing Rex has ever seen: Cold and cruel, his eyes burning that same yellow that could make even the strongest tremble in fear. They kill all of them.

Anakin takes care of two of them, the more skilled opponents, the Knights, but leaves the Padawans to the troopers. Rex doesn’t do much, he waits, he echoes the Sith’s orders, and then watches his men gun them down mercilessly. He thinks that maybe that justifies it, somehow, makes the blood on his hands less thick.

They’re on a transport, heading to the Star Destroyer that the Chancellor had deemed worthy of his occupation, and Anakin is by his side, his presence a warm, comforting thing, and he welcomes the wave of calm that the Sith projects into his mind.

“Don’t wander off.” Anakin murmurs lowly. “There are a dozen battalions scattered in the hangar, I don’t want you getting lost.”

Rex nods, prepares himself for the inevitability of them not being _his_ _vode,_ the ones that had their own desires and ambitions, and promptly balks when the ramp lowers. Anakin had not lied. The 327th, the 104th, the 41st, 21st and so many others, all of them are there, straight backed rows upon rows in neat lines, with their respective Commanders and Captains at the front.

“They were all sent here, either to be reassigned or to be given new orders.” Anakin supplies, brushing past him to exit, a dramatic saunter that makes him roll his eyes.

_At least his passion for theatrics hasn’t changed._

He follows after his General, trying very hard not to look at any of the enslaved clones around him, but then he makes the mistake of looking up. His vision is greeted with gold. The 212th.

Proud, strong Cody, broken and dirtied at the head of his battalion. His armor looked absolutely _ruined,_ and there’s no way he’s not injured, not with the extensive damage to his kit, but if he is, he doesn’t show it. He’s just as mindless as the others. Cody would have hated it.

_Ori’vod... what have they done to you?_

He takes a step towards his brother, but almost immediately a flash of dark robes consumes his vision, blocking the way.

“Don’t,” Anakin hissed, discreetly glancing around the hangar before tugging Rex after him. Away from Cody. Rex lets out a small noise. “He’s watching. You have to be strong.”

He doesn’t want to be strong. He wants to wake up and find out that this is all a bad dream, wants to tease Cody about his _horrible_ crush on Kenobi, wants to go to 79’s with Wolffe and Bly, wants to wake up surrounded by _vode,_ his smart, unique _vode,_ but instead, he’s surrounded by the Kaminoan’s perfect creations. This was what they were _meant_ to be. He feels nauseous.

Anakin tugs him into what must be his personal quarters, because Rex has never seen a room this _big_ on any star destroyer. “I promise I’ll explain everything,” he says, his tone distracted, and then he’s making his way back to the door. “Stay here, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” He says, just to see Anakin make the disturbed and frustrated face he always does when he uses his title, but instead, Anakin just nods, and he’s gone.

He’d known that everything would change, that the life that he’d lived was in the past, but this? If this is the future, he finds he wants no part of it.

* * *

Rex comes to find that Sidious- _calling the man ‘my lord’ made bile rise in his throat, but one sharp look from Anakin had him relenting. The words still tasted like ash, though-_ is a cold, calculating man.

Every action is always well thought out, planned, like a game, almost, and he takes joy in watching the repercussions. It doesn’t matter if he’s ordering Anakin- _Vader,_ Anakin had explained carefully, _you’re to call me Vader. My name isn’t Anakin anymore._ But he’ll always be his Jedi. Rex sees him, sometimes, when they’re alone and in love, _Anakin_ will shine through, and Vader will always look frustrated afterwards- to hunt down Jedi stragglers or simply asking a droid to clean his office. The coy, smug smile never leaves his face.

Rex had thought that he’d been forgotten, that maybe Sidious had simply wrote him off as another blaster to further solidify his Empire, but after two days, he’s requested to the Emperor’s- _the title was odd in itself, and Rex mourned the Republic he’d been created for, the Republic he was supposed to die for-_ chamber.

Vader is there, as always, right by his Master’s side, conversing about the coming manhunt for a Jedi that Rex had already forgotten the name of, and they both stop talking when he enters. Vader nods at him, a small smile on his face, and Rex stopped a respectful distance away, giving him a nod of his own.

“You called for me, my lord.”

Sidious smiles, no warmth in the action, yellow eyes gleaming beneath his hood. Then, the door behind Rex opens. He doesn’t turn, but the shock on Vader’s face tells him all he needs to know.

“Choose.” Sidious hisses, and points a deformed finger to something behind Rex. He turns, only to stumble back a step in shock when Cody stares back at him, hazel eyes trained on nothing in particular. There’s another clone, too, one of Rex’s, their 501st blue bright and proud.

“You- I- _what?”_ Rex stammers, and Vader echoes his confusion.

“Master?”

“Kill one, and I will spare the other. Your loyalty, while commendable, is in question.” Sidious looked entirely too gleeful about the proposition, eyeing Cody and the trooper with a haughty expression.

“I... I cant do that. They’re my brothers.”

“I know. Choose, or you _all_ die.” Sidious leans back, like he’s watching a _karking show on the holonet,_ and Rex stares down at Cody’s blank face and dead eyes, searching, watching for any sign of emotion, of life.

He’s disappointed.

He looks at his trooper next, equally blank expression and unseeing eyes, but there’s an incredibly intricate, almost neon blue tattoo across the bridge of his nose, stretching under his eyes before curling delicately at the ends. Beautiful. Unique. He’d been a person, had picked a _karking tattoo_ and had a name, not a number.

And Rex was going to shoot him.

He drew his pistol shakily, aimed it- _a clean shot, a painless shot, and he would be out of his misery, free to be with all the vode gone on before him-_ but hesitated. Could he do this? Could he _willingly_ kill a brother? One of his own? One of the men that had followed him and trusted him? There’s no answer except the buck of his pistol in his palm and the trooper falling with a _thud._

Rex feels sick. So sick, like somethings in his stomach, twisting and turning and tearing, and it hurts worse than he’d expected. Cody hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even blinked, and Rex couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

Sidious laughed, pleased, and when Rex lifted his head, Vader was looking at him with pained, heartbroken eyes, an apology thrust sloppily into his mind, and Rex tore his gaze away.

_Anakin, please._

“Good, _very_ good, Captain Rex.” Then, mockingly, “I’m sure he’ll thank you, one day.”

“Will that be all, my lord?” He asks, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, even when Sidious’s eyes _flare._

“Yes, that will be all. CC-2224,” Cody immediately looks to Sidious. “You are dismissed.”

Rex wonders if Cody realizes how close he’d come to dying, how close he’d come to getting a blaster to the head.

He doesn’t know what’s worse, though, Cody _not_ knowing, or Cody knowing that he would die and doing nothing at all to stop it.

* * *

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Vader- _Anakin. Vader. Anakin Vader Anakin Vader AnakinVaderAnakinVader it’s too much toomuchtoomuch-_ soothed softly, holding him close and curling protectively around him. The sound that comes from Rex’s mouth is humiliating. “Shhh, no no no, don’t cry, it’s okay, I promise, I won’t let him do that again, Rex, I _swear to you._ It’s alright, I’m here.”

It’s so much to take in, so much _change,_ and he wants _Anakin,_ wants the kind, daring General that he’d fallen in love with, not- not the Sith that _kills._

“I’m still... I’m still Anakin, Rex, just a different name, it’s me. It’s me.”

Gods he wants it to be. He needs someone he _knows,_ because three days without his brothers is all it’s taking for him to break. “Anakin,” he says wetly, and the Sith doesn’t correct him, just holds him tighter, strokes down his side in warm, firm touches that just make his heart bleed all the more.

Rex flips until he’s facing the man’s chest, sinking further into the _way too comfortable_ bed before asking quietly, “Can... can I just have Cody?”

Anakin stares down at him, eyes devoid of yellow, softening slightly. “I don’t think I can do that, Rex. My Master wouldn’t allow it.”

“Please,” He needs his brother, needs his _ori’vod,_ and he hadn’t realized just how _much_ he needed him until now.

Anakin sighs, no real malice in the act, and tugs him closer. “I’ll ask.” Anakin noses along his temple, and Rex swats him away when it makes him shiver. “But only because I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Then, an afterthought, “Don’t let him hurt them. They can’t- they don’t understand, right now. They can’t fight back.”

“I won’t.” Anakin’s voice hardened. “I won’t let him hurt _you,_ either. I promise, I’ll always protect you.”

A lie, but a beautiful one all the same. It makes Rex smile anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short, yes, but i wanted to go ahead and spit this chapter out before working on the others. i read an article that said when they reached ten (twenty, physically) their accelerated aging stopped, so i’m going to go with that :) 
> 
> i was already planning on cody’s chip either frying or being surgically removed (see: rex always gets what he wants and anakin can never say no) and i MAY do a few of the other command clones, but who knows! this is super fun to write, and i hope you enjoyed it! thanks for reading lovelies <3


	3. wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”Loyalties, Captain. Where are yours?”_

Rex keeps a hand on his blaster as he carefully navigates his way through the lower levels, HUD flickering in an attempt to compensate for the neon lights adorning nearly every doorway they pass. The squad behind him is silent save for the rhythmic steps of their armored feet, blasters held in firm but sedate grips across their front, and he holds up a fist when the communicator on his wrist lets out a shrill beep.

Vader had branched off from their group a couple streets back, ducking into an alley and disappearing without so much as a warning. Rex had known better than to stop and question him, but now he wishes he had. He considers his options, decides that the odds of the padawans escaping are too great, and he’s barely stretched two fingers towards the building to engage when the troopers break down the door and flood in.

“Clear!”

Rex slips inside, carefully sidestepping splintered wood and overturned tables, scanning for any movement as he goes. “Split up and scan the area, he’s h-“ An arm wraps around his throat a moment after there’s a soft sound behind him, pulling him flush against someone’s chest, and he struggles, bringing his arm forward, fully prepared to drive it back into his attackers gut. He would have, too, but freezes when a green blade is suddenly ignited in his peripheral. It would’ve nearly blinded him in the dark space if not for his helmet.

_Cleared my ass._

“Stay back, or he dies.” The padawan hisses, tightening their hold around his neck for emphasis, and Rex momentarily panics when it cuts off his air. His hands shoot up automatically, and he claws at the arm with a single minded determination. The grip begrudgingly loosens.

He would almost be proud of how utterly unaffected the troopers were if there wasn’t a lightsaber at his neck. As it is, one of the men- _Appo, maybe, but the paint on his armor is so scraped and dull that it’s impossible to be sure-_ takes a threatening step forward, blaster charged. “Varalas Ulaen, you have been charged with treason to the Republic and are subject to execution along with traitor Ras Sorenn.”

The padawan’s breathing is haywire, Rex thinks dizzily, and the saber hums as it sways with the kid’s panicked inhales. “We didn’t do anything! Appo, _please_! Trust me. I- I thought we were _friends_.”

Appo’s hands shake minutely, and his blaster dips slightly before raising again. The troopers behind Appo have no such weakness, and their aim is steady and true, all they need is for Rex to break the hold and give them a clear shot.

There’s the sound of a blade being ignited, the walls suddenly bathed in red, nearly swallowing up the green of the padawan’s, and the arm around his neck tightens in fear, cuts his air, and stays that way. This time, none of his struggles appear to be very persuasive, and the padawan pointedly ignores him in favor of glaring at Vader.

“I didn’t believe it at first,” The Jedi snaps, but the tremor in his voice and the whistle in his breaths betray his fear. Rex doesn’t blame him. Vader looks like a _nightmare_. “ _The_ Anakin Skywalker, a Sith? It was unthinkable.”

Vader’s eyes are a molten gold, and he _smiles_ , cold and predatory, head tilted. “And now?”

“You’ve killed your _own kind_ , betrayed the people that _loved_ you. What kind of sick monster _does_ that?”

Rex’s lungs are screaming for air, his whole body jerking to try and escape the horrible _wrongness_ that’s flooding his senses, and he reaches out a hand to Vader almost instinctively, a plea. Vader doesn’t so much as look at him.

“You,” The Sith drawls. “Are very boring.”

Black spots are dancing in his vision now, his frantic struggles growing weaker, his knees threatening to give out beneath him and- _Finally_ , a flicker of emotion as Vader glances at him quickly, then away.

“Your master was much more of a challenge.” Vader continues, and the padawan nearly snarls in anger. “Her death was slow in coming, but satisfying none the less.”

Rex is suddenly released and thrown to the side as Varalas launches himself at Vader, and he _hears_ more than _sees_ his death. There’s a nauseating hiss as the blade cuts through something- some _one_ , followed by the smell of burning flesh, and then it’s over. Rex is left to suck in sharp, whistling breaths, followed by racking coughs as his body tries to remember how to breathe.

He’s shaky, rattled, but still manages to get to his feet in time to see Vader thumb off his saber and clip it to his belt. Varalas’s corpse was still smoking at his feet.

“There’s another.” The Sith rumbles, eyes trained on Rex, flashing with heated promise and nearly overbearing in their intensity. “Find him.”

There’s a chorus of “yes, sir” as the troopers fan out, clambering up the steps to the second story and leaving them alone. Rex finds it difficult to meet his gaze, and instead unholsters his blasters, fiddling with the switches and making sure they’re set to kill. They always are, he thinks bitterly, always have to be, but it’s something for him to do. He doesn’t trust his hands to remain steady if he doesn’t.

“You’re alright.” Not phrased as a question, but he feels that it’s one all the same. He finally musters the courage to look up, and Vader has an eyebrow raised.

His throat still feels tight, his breath still constricted, but he forces an answer out anyway. “Yes, sir.”

There’s the sudden pounding of feet on stairs, and Rex levels his blasters without a second thought, finger hovering over the trigger. Vader doesn’t appear to share his wariness, and instead loops both thumbs in his belt and waits patiently, eyes trained on the doorway.

Ras Sorenn is impossibly small, smaller than Rex anticipated, with wide green eyes that may have been charming if not for the blood spattered across his face and clothes, and Rex glances over at Vader with a frown. Ras is a child, barely old enough to even be considered a padawan, scared, hurt and unarmed. Innocent.

_Never killed a kid before._

“I- I didn’t do anythin’.” Ras croaks, little hands bunched in the front of his robes, and the fear on his face is enough to have Rex lowering his blasters almost instantly.

“‘s alright, little’un.” He makes a show of holstering his blasters, hyper aware of Vader’s eyes boring into the back of his head as he takes a few careful steps forward. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks maybe he’s met Ras before- _has the vaguest of memories of visiting the Temple with Anakin, meeting younglings and letting them take turns trying on his helmet-_ because the kid scrambles over to attach himself to his leg all too easily.

There’s a soft click as Vader unclips his lightsaber, and Rex jerked his head up to stare at him in shock, hand placed protectively atop Ras’s head. “No,” He snaps, angling himself to be between the Sith and the Jedi, and Ras makes a terrified noise when he realizes what’s happening. “He’s a _kid._ He didn’t do anything.”

Rex has seen plenty of red blades in his life, but none have had the ability to make his heart stop cold like Vader’s does. The Force is wound tightly between them, like a rubber band stretched taut, teetering on the edge of snapping, and Rex sees his intent before Vader can even raise his blade.

“You’re not killing him.” Rex says firmly, and, to his chagrin, Vader’s eyes flash with amusement.

“I don’t have to.” The Sith says, and Rex looks up to see a trooper, blaster raised and aimed at-

“N-“

There’s a squelch, a burning pain in his hand as the bolt hits home, and blood spatters across his armor, across his visor, in a brilliant arc. Ras’s whole face is-

He rips off his helmet and _gags_ , bent over and bleary eyed, hand still pulsing in white-hot agony, but all he can see is yellow eyes and _Ras_ and- “ _Fuck_ you,” Rex doesn’t scream, he _doesn’t_ , but it’s a near thing, _he’s so tired of death and pain and blood and **please he was a kid-**_

Getting to his feet is even more difficult than the first time, and he catches another glimpse of Ras’s limp form before he’s finally up. Facing Vader is like facing the entire Separatist army alone, like staring death itself in the face, a row of jagged, deadly teeth stained with the blood of innocents. It’s terrifying. Rex does it all the same.

He can barely see a karking thing from the moisture in his eyes, but he blinks it away, chest heaving and hands shaking. Vader still hasn’t moved, still hasn’t put away his saber, but Rex doesn’t care, storming up to the Sith with all the dignity of a broken and dishonored warrior, because _somewhere_ in there is _his fucking Jedi_ , and he knows Anakin would never hurt him.

Vader is not Anakin.

Vader is hate and rage, bitter with unfulfilled promises and strong in the knowledge that his pain is a weapon. _Vader_ , Rex comes to find, does not have Anakin Skywalker’s weaknesses. Or his heart.

He’s pressed into the wall so hard that it knocks the breath from his lungs, so hard that he can _hear_ his armor crack and groan with the strain, and Vader leans in until he’s nearly pressed against him, hand still raised and pinning him in place.

“Loyalties, Captain.” Vader murmurs, and an involuntary shiver travels up his spine at the sultry tone. “Where are yours?”

Rex let’s his head thump back, chest still rising and falling unsteadily, whether from Ras’s fate or from Vader’s closeness, he doesn’t know. “You know where.” He spits breathlessly, and Vader releases him with a smile.

“Yes,” A ghost of a touch travels across the expanse of his back, and Rex steps away from the Sith with a heated glare. The touch disappears. “Yes I do.”

* * *

On the transport back, Vader asks to see his hand, the one that stings and _aches_ and refuses to support the weight of his blaster, but Rex refuses with stony indifference. He’d rather burn.

Appo’s entire body trembles minutely, blaster clutched desperately across his front, and the trooper to his right is staring down at his armor, at his helmet, at the blood smeared across it, as if he doesn’t understand.

“Do you miss them?” Vader suddenly asks, and when Rex turns, the Sith was looking at him curiously, lips parted as he watched him.

“Clones are nothing without each other.” Rex finally decides on, glancing away to hide the moisture in his eyes. He missed them _all_ , so fucking much, missed the galaxy the way it had been weeks ago, when he and his brothers were happy and _themselves_ , when he could actually breathe without death coating his tongue, but he would never admit such a thing. “They’re the only family I have.”

Vader was still studying him carefully, eyes softening, and Rex found that his gaze wasn’t so unbearable after all. That is until one of the pilots called out for him, and then the harsh glare was back on the Sith’s face as he stood and disappeared into the cockpit.

Rex let out a shaky exhale, eyes slipping closed and exhaustion pulling at him relentlessly. 

“Captain...”

Appo’s voice was raw, like he’d been screaming himself hoarse, and Rex opens his eyes in surprise. The sergeant’s wide eyes were red rimmed, full of fear and confusion, and it made him look hopelessly, impossibly young. But not innocent.

“I don’t...” Appo paused, eyes flitting across the interior of the shuttle haltingly before they leveled on him again. “I don’t understand, sir.”

Rex had to look away from the guilt and terror mirrored in the sergeant’s amber eyes, instead staring down at his blood-crusted right hand. “I don’t either.”

* * *

His head throbs, a sharp, biting pain that refuses to dull the longer he’s awake, and he presses a hand to the side of his face and groans.

He stumbles out of the drab quarters he’d woken in, confused as to why the hells he’d fallen asleep in his _armor_ , because hadn’t they been on _Cato Neimoidia_?

Nearly knocking over an astromech as he turns a corner, he ignores its indignant squeal, instead slamming a fist into the control panel of the medbay and practically falling in. His legs feel weak, shaky, like he’d been marching for days and days, which is _wrong_ , because he _hasn’t_.

There aren’t any medics.

A droid greets him, voice deceptively soft and feminine. “CC-3636, are you injured?”

“What?” He hadn’t expected his voice to be a gasp, but he doesn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed when he catches sight of the troopers utterly silent on their cots, some so badly burned that he _knows_ they’re scheduled for termination. “What happened?” They aren’t even his troopers, and maybe that’s what scares him the most, the fact that he’s alone again, a commander without a battalion. Or maybe he’s just scared because it’s painfully obvious those wounds were dealt by a lightsaber. “Where are my men?”

The droid seems to regard him a moment, head tilted, before the comm on it’s forearm flashes. “CC-3636 is awake.”

His blood turns to ice at that, the feeling of _wrongness_ he’d felt before nearly doubling him over in its intensity, and he’s turning so fast he nearly slams into the door.

Droids were always a particularly easy opponent, and this one was no different. He’d barely let one of its cold, metallic hands graze his bicep before he was reaching for a pistol and whirling, the plasma catching it right between the eyes, and it stays upright only a moment before toppling to the floor.

And then the door slides open behind him, and he freezes reflexively.

“ _Easy_ , vod.” Someone says, voice calm, and he would think it was an order if not for how soft it was. “Put the blaster down.”

He can do that. He has another one weighing against his left hip anyway. He tosses the pistol to the side, and the vod behind him exhales.

“Good, everything’s going to be fine, just turn around slo-“

“CC-3636,” The designation grates along his nerves and sends a flare of pain behind his eyes, and he tenses involuntarily at the new voice. “Stand down.”

The first vod was clearly not happy for being interrupted, if his frustrated hiss was anything to by. “ _You_ stand down. Let me handle this.”

Wolffe makes a decision. He palms his pistol, whirls, but has no time to fire before he’s hit. A stun bolt, he realizes when it only brings him to his knees, and he only has enough time to lift wide, watery eyes in surprise before the second bolt hits him square in the chest.

He’s out before he hits the floor.

* * *

“It’s too soon.”

Vader hesitates, debating on how to answer, and decides that an explanation was in order. “Master, some of the chips have... _malfunctioned_. Deteriorated. But these are only small, isolated incidents. The integrity of the army is still intact.”

“And what is being done with the malfunctioned clones?” Sidious looks dangerously close to sneering, and it sends the briefest pang of rage through Vader’s veins before he squelches it mercilessly.

“They were placed in a holding cell per my orders. They are... unstable.”

“Rightfully so.” There’s something about his Master’s eyes that’s unnerving, so different from Obi-Wan’s warm, deep ocean blue, but those are traitorous thoughts, _Anakin’s_ thoughts. Not his own.

It’s harder to quiet the voice inside this time, but he does it all the same. It was loudest with Rex, when the Dark wasn’t clawing at his mind and drowning him in its murky depths, when he felt clean and felt the Light, when he could think without the weight if his failure threatening to bring him down, and it almost always reminded him of how miserable his captain now looked.

 _Remember before_ , it would say, and Vader would always try to shove it down, to bat it away, but it would always persist, the Light spurring it on. _Remember when he used to smile_?

Vader comes back to himself when he finally deciphers what his Master was implying. “My loyalties are unwavering. I’ve given everything to you.”

“And yet you still grovel over past pleasantries, fawning over a _clone_ that loathes you just as much as you loathe yourself.” Sidious snapped, and if it had been Obi-Wan, he probably would have snapped back, would have fought for not only himself but for Rex, but he’d never feared Obi-Wan. Sidious was something to be terrified of. “Anakin Skywalker lives. Kill him, or I will.”

Theres an image pressed into his mind, Rex on his knees, crying and bleeding and a red saber through his chest, and Vader gets to his feet with a snarl. “Don’t touch him.”

Sidious sits back at that, smug grin and all, and Vader grits his teeth to try and control the anger that simmers within. “There have been rumors.” The change of topic doesn’t startle him, and if anything, it’s welcome. It still sours his mood, though. He’d thought his old Master would have been smart enough to avoid detection.

“On Tatooine.” Vader says blandly.

“On Tatooine.” Sidious agrees, and he watches him closely, yellow eyes burning. “I was under the impression that he was dead.”

“As was I.” The lie comes easier than expected, and with it, a sense of power that he hadn’t expected. Sidious doesn’t react.

“Leave me, then.” He says, tone bored, and Vader would roll his eyes if he could. But instead, he bows his head and murmurs a quiet, “Thank you, my Master”.

And if the Emperor notices the sneer at the end of it, he doesn’t mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My motivation and inspiration really said fuck this shit i’m out huh. Sorry if this seems super rushed or disorganized, but i promise it’s going places! Just very very slowly, along with my other WIPs that are kicking my ass right now. Also this is kind of short, my bad.
> 
> Wolffe and Appo down, an entire army to go. I’m thinking either Kix or Cody next (yes I haven’t forgotten about my sexy medic who is currently floating around in cryo), or Jesse, because yes he lives in this, his death hit me hard and just... yeah. I don’t even need to explain myself on that one lmao. 
> 
> Get ready for “Major Relationship Problems Because Both Of Us Are Trying To Please The Other Even Though We’re Both Miserable And Slowly Sinking Into Depression” starring Anakin, Rex, and oh, hey, Rex and Anakin. Things get worse before they get better, and by worse I mean horrible. Like flaming dumpster with moldy trash horrible. 
> 
> (like I WOULD do smut for this but like... fucking a sith lord while your brothers are being used as slaves just down the hall doesn’t sit right with me so definitely saving that for later chapters lmao)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading lovelies!! You guys are the best <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading lovelies!


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